


How My Poor Heart Aches (I've Watched You Fade)

by Krasimer



Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Going to ignore some aspects of both the movie and the books, M/M, Sandy rescues Pitch from his nightmares, Seraphina Pitchiner is his daughter in this one, We're going AU, While using others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5455430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months after the battle, Sandy goes to find someone that has been lost for a very long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How My Poor Heart Aches (I've Watched You Fade)

Sandy slipped through the shadow-drenched halls of Pitch's lair, skirting the ones that seemed to be trying to drag him down into them. 

His round face taut with worry, the small guardian frowned as he turned a corner, finding more tunnel, more darkness and more despair rising in his heart with each moment that passed. His own glow was brighter than usual in these halls, his hands clenched in front of him, fingers twisted in the dreamsand fabric that formed his clothing. Sandy took a deep breath before heading down the tunnel, allowing himself to drift closer to the floor until he was walking rather than floating.

A noise behind him gave him pause, a small stirring of fear rising in his chest as he turned to face the Nightmare that had come up beside him. Squaring himself up, Sandy met it's eyes, putting his hands on his hips in tight fists.

Strangely, it left him alone after that, a hiss echoing in the tight space as it flitted away.

(If he listened carefully, he could hear a small voice he barely remembered anymore whispering to him.)

As he went lower into the labyrinth that the Nightmare King had created to live in, he began seeing pieces of something he had thought long since lost. Navigational instruments, fragments of the Golden Age, surrounded him. Some of them were embedded in the walls, broken beyond almost all recognition or repair, but some of them still lit up as he passed. The smooth dirt of the floor beneath his feet gave way to rough wood, and it was enough to make him pause in his journey.

(Thousands of years had passed, and he had forgotten her voice so long ago. Her name was always on his mind but her face was blurry.)

There were stains on the wood, streaks of something that seemed far more vicious than the normal wear and tear, splatters of dried blood that had stained the material for longer than most people had been alive. Sandy knelt down next to one of the stains, his fingers tracing over the edges of it.

(The Fearling army had been so terrible to behold, and at the head of it, a stolen ship ruled by the iron fist of a stolen General.)

There was so little light down this far, and Sandy stared up at the arching roof of the cavern he found himself in. It had to have been at least eighty feet high, and he could see the skeletal structure of what had once been the mainmast of the ship scraping the top, hidden away in the shadows. He clambered up the stairs in front of him, balancing behind the long-ago rusted away circle of where the wheel had once been. The Nightmares had gathered at the mouth of the cavern, their hooves pawing impatiently at the ground as they watched him rise back into view.

Ignoring the shudder that worked it's way down his spine, Sandy turned away from them, pushing open the door that led down into the cabins of the ship, the living quarters for the soldiers who were no longer alive.

His glow was the only light that broke the darkness down here.

Ignoring the cabins with closed doors, Sandy closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and clasping his hands together in front of himself. With a nod, he stepped towards the open door at the end of the hall, summoning his sands to hand, focusing intently on it until it glowed brightly, just like him. The shadows it cast were benign, soft things born of natural light that were never going to be a threat to him.

(He still remembered the last words that had been spoken to him, the worry in the man's eyes as he stepped away and headed for the assignment he had been given by the Tsar.)

In the corner of the room was a bed, spartan in design and made with a military precision, each corner of the sheets tucked in so tight and neat as to be able to measure a straight line. A pair of boots were tucked under the edge of it, the laces curled up and tucked inside, sitting quietly beside a well folded stack of clothing.

Sandy's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of the bloodstained uniform of Kozmotis Pitchiner.

He stepped closer to the bed, raising his hand so that the light was cast further from the source, jumping in a startled motion as he caught sight of the long-limbed form of Pitch Black. His entire body was pinned to the wall, his arms behind his back like a prisoner, his hair a bedraggled mess around his face. Above his head was a locket, looped around a nail in the wall, opened to show the picture inside to whoever cared to look.

Reaching out a small stream of dreamsand, Sandy pulled it down, running his thumb along the edge of the frame, meeting the painted eyes of the girl who remained frozen in time. Poor Seraphina, long ago lost and gone, her father a relic in a world that didn't want to remember anything but the monster he had become.

Pitch stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly, unfocused as he stared at Sandy.

The golden dreamweaver simply looked back, offering forward the locket. _'Do you remember?'_ the sands whispered. 

(Golden-brown eyes had once stared back at him from two faces: The girl's had nearly been hidden by the size of her smile. Her father's had been more open, but no less mirthful and joyous to see him.)

"It has been..." Pitch heaved for air, nostrils flaring as he tried to moisten his lips, his voice cracked and painful sounding. "Have you come to gloat, sandman?"

_'No.'_

"Then why are you here?" he hissed, a flare of mercurial temper showing for a moment. "Did you come to see me at my worst?" he managed to draw himself up a little, wincing when the shadows held him tighter.

(Once upon a time, he'd been safe within the arms of the other. Once upon a time was a very long time ago.)

Sandy stepped up on the bed, floating up so that he could meet Pitch's eyes, a small hand resting on the hollow cheek of the other immortal. _'I have come to retrieve something.'_ his sands whispered for him, turning the locket around so that Pitch could see it. _'My center is not so easily lost, and even fallen stars have dreams.'_

"What nonsense are you spouting, old man?" Pitch's lip curled back, nearly snarling at the golden man as the locket was held out even further, closer to his face. "Will you stop pressing that to my face if I look at it? Is that what you want? Fine! I will look at your trinke-" the words died in his throat, giving way to a harsh rattle of breath as he gave a full body shudder. "...No, Sera- What is this?" he tore his eyes away from it, looking almost betrayed as he met Sandy's eyes. "What the hell are you playing at this time?"

 _'My center is dreams, you and I have known this for centuries.'_ Sandy took his face in both hands, wrapping the chain of the locket around his wrist. _'But I fear you have forgotten yours.'_

He pressed his forehead to Pitch's, his hand curling into the taller spirit's hair, holding him close and tight as he swiped away the shadows holding him back. Pitch practically collapsed against him, chest heaving as though he had just run a marathon of some sort. "Let go of me!" Pitch struggled for a moment, flailing slightly when Sandy moved to do just that.

 _'My Golden General,'_ Sandy whispered, tracing the sharp edges of the man's cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs. _'I think it's time you remembered.'_

"What would remembering gain me?" Pitch's voice was shaky, overextended and broken down in a way that made Sandy's heart ache.

(He had fallen to the world of this man so long ago, but that first meeting was still imprinted in his mind and he felt like a madman sometimes for how much he wished he could save the General he had fallen in love with.)

 _'My old friend,'_ Sandy pressed closer, hugging his arms around Pitch's neck, playing with the short hairs on the nape of it. _'You would gain everything. My Kozmotis, my General, we are some of the last remnants of the Golden Age and someone has done you **wrong**_.'

**Author's Note:**

> So...
> 
> I am sorry that I have been gone so long, but I started college and I also did NaNoWriMo last month. Pumping out 60K in a month while also doing a full time college schedule makes me want to do anything but write when it's all done, and my other stories are being worked on, but it will take time.
> 
> Nothing is being abandoned. Trust me.
> 
> Anyways: Have a small story that I have been thinking about for a long time. Knowing me, it'll turn into a hideously long story, probably over 80K because I don't seem to be able to write short things. Hope you liked it.
> 
> Tell me what you think?


End file.
